Lord or Captain
by Roselle Greywood
Summary: Elizabeth does seem to make being captured a habit, and Captain Sparrow along with Mr. Turner and the exCommodore venture forth to save her, but difficulties ensue... Sparrington. [Complete. For now...]
1. Fiercely Stormy

Author's Notes: So it's my first Pirates story. Expect it to be finished within a couple of days (: I've been working on this one for a couple of days, seriously, since I saw the second movie on Monday (24/07/06). So, naturally, this is set after the second movie, but I would say that if that's the case, then Jack didn't die, and escaped with the rest of them, and slain the Kraken and got away with the _Pearl_ successfully, _or_ it's after the third movie, where they've revived him and yadda-yadda-yadda, and they've rescued Elizabeth from evil-Chinese-guy and now she's… well. –ahem-. We won't go into that; it's spoilers for the fic x)

Genre: PotC

Characters: Commodore Norrington, Captain Jack Sparrow, Cutler Beckett, Will Turner, Elizabeth Swann, Joshamee Gibbs. Plus others.

Rating and Warnings: Oh, it's slashy. Sparrington stuff abound. If that's what you want to believe. I would say I'm rating this T, 'cause I dunno what it's gonna turn into x) You'll just have to wait and see ;3

Chapter One 

_Fiercely Stormy_

The night was fiercely stormy, and waves lashed the side of the sleek black ship that cut through the waters like a knife. Rain hammered down onto the decks and soaked the crew that were busy tying off ends and securing cannons, and the wind howled like a wild animal, threatening to tear the sails from their moorings. All around the Pearl, there was nothing but pitch black, save the few spots churning water, illuminated by the lamps desperately trying to light up the ship. Soon enough, the Captain would give up trying to sail through the storm and order that they simply sit where they were, and drift with the tides. It would save the crew's energy at least, energy that could be well spent the next day. It wasn't as though they would get too far off course; but the weather didn't seem as though it was going to let up any time soon. It was the most sensible course of action - then again, the Captain commanding this ship wasn't one for taking the most sensible course of action.

He stood at the wheel, squinting into the rain; tricorne hat having collected a great deal of rainwater that was now splashing down his already sodden form. Hands gripped the wheel firmly, as under currents meant that the ship was becoming rather difficult to handle, and every now and again dark eyes would flick to the compass, held awkwardly between finger and thumb as he tried to keep them on course. He was just about managing it.

But the crew; Jack could see they were tiring; soon to give up and mutiny; even Briggs...shaking his head, knowing that tonight it was a no go, Captain Jack Sparrow barked out a fresh set of orders.

"Let down the sails lads, and get below deck; we're sitting this one out." He hoped they had heard him over the rain and the wind, and the roar of the sea, to be fair he was looking forward to getting some drink down him and having a few minutes to himself.

The task completed, Jack left the wheel and entered his cabin, sinking into a chair and throwing his dresscoat over the table. Aching arms and legs, he simply sat there, quite still. A few minutes past, and he reached for the bottle of rum that always lived next to his map and sextant, and took a hearty swig, relaxing a little.

Their latest excursion had gone rather well; they had been chasing a ship down the coast of a string of islands, all partly on Will Turner's orders. Elizabeth had been taken one night, and as such the whelp had insisted that they go after her; Jack wanting to go after something much more shiny had grudgingly agreed; as his first mate wasn't going to do a decent job if she was absent.

Though the Pearl was no doubt the fastest ship, this other was smaller, lighter and perhaps a little more maneuverable; as it had stuck to the shallows and cut across islands using the inland waterways, they had followed it, but not quite been able to catch it. Wearing Jack's tether indeed, the Captain had tried every trick in the book to try and trap the other ship, but every time he was out foxed.

A few people had sprung to mind as he tried to put a face to this adversary, but the more important thing that niggled him was why they had only taken Elizabeth when the ship lay wide open to assault. The enemy had literally come from out of the blue, one night a few weeks ago. Leaving them a note of sorts, Jack had pinned it onto the main mast for everyone to read - he himself had glanced at it a few times, but it was just a ransom note declaring the price for her head.

Jack had had the confidence at the time, that they were going to catch the ship before they docked, for if the others managed to reach port Royale, Elizabeth would be hanged. At the time, the Captain wasn't vexed in the slightest, but as time wore on and they neared the mark, he began to become a little more concerned - they were certainly giving him a run for his money.

Still, none of this showed on his exterior, he was still the same old Jack - wasn't he?

--

James wasn't having the best of months, nor the best of lives, nor the best of days. With the terrible note about Elizabeth, every moment he had to himself he noticed himself blinking more – to rid his eyes of the shallow tears there. But that had nearly passed; after all, she was Will's girl through and through now, wasn't she? There wasn't a bloody chance she could ever think of marrying him – the only emotions he supposed she showed towards him were anger and pity. Foolish girl… a blacksmith. A pirate. And now he was being hypocritical – it was true he had shown himself up rather to be a pirate of sorts… with a devious smile he dismissed the idea. Definitely not. Norrington the pirate of the seven seas? – It just didn't work.

With a sharp laugh he followed the other crew members below deck, settling himself against the wall with a small bottle of rum, sipping from it now and again as he cast an intent eye around the other crew hands, and kept a sharp ear listening to their conversation. Eventually he could stand no more – their comments on working out who really _had_ captured Elizabeth drove him insane – of course his loyalties lay… he cleared his throat quietly and left for his bed, sharing the quarters with at least half of the crew. He itched to tell them the truth, so that the Captain had a better lead… Norrington had a slight respect and … _admiration _for the man, for his talents as a pirate certainly were quite awful, but deceptive all the same and it kept his enemies hopping from one foot to the other, waiting in suspense right until the most unfortunate of moments until they found out the real truth behind Sparrow.

The former Commodore sighed heavily and departed from being flumped across his bed to the Captain's chambers… he needed to talk.

He rapped twice upon the timber door, and pushed it open, wincing a little as it creaked loudly.

"Captain? Have you any idea how long the storm will take to pass?"

Jack opened one eye and stared at James standing in the doorway. Sitting up, for he had been leaning over the back of his chair, he turned around in his seat to gawk at the man, a plain look of disgust on his own face as those dark eyes travelled up, and down the shoddy attire. He loved to do that, make his old enemy feel no better than the goats they kept on the ship; everyone else hated him, for they were loyal to their captain, and besides, the ex-commodore had been so full of himself, it took rather a lot to actually like him. Jack loved to play along with it all, as his liking of the man hadn't particularly grown since they picked him up in Tortuga, and it cheered him up rather a lot – James was often the butt of all his jokes, and the crew seemed to join in.

It was a shame he was in that position, but hey, he hadn't changed one bit. Jack was silent for quite a long time, making James stand there slowly becoming wetter and wetter until he smiled in a sickly sweet manner, his free hand waving the man inside.

"Do come in Jamsey boy – wouldn't want you getting wet what with the storm an all." He said cheerily, a hand gesturing towards a seat.

"I don't know and I don't care - doesn't look like it's stopping any time soon, so I'm not interested. Was there anything else you wanted?" Jack enquired, making it quite clear he was not about to offer the man any form of hospitality, drinks or otherwise. It was clear though, he was looking for some sort of resignation from the man, a hint that he wanted this unfairness to end against himself of course if he asked, Jack would probably make him do something utterly humiliating and possibly not worthwhile his sanctity, but still...he held this mad urge to get the ex-commodore to admit that he was an idiot. He had become quite sick of the man looking down his nose at him, when in reality he was no higher than the common man.

He dropped his gaze a little nervously, and looked down at the floorboards, shining with rainwater and grease. James muttered something quiet as he entered the Captain's rooms, which sounded awfully like, "I'm already bloody wet…" but nonetheless he came in, but shook his head when offered the seat, choosing instead to stand just behind it, twisting his hand around his middle finger agitatedly, choosing his words, eyes darting about the cabin as he thought.

"You… don't care?" Norrington's comment on Jack's reply to his earlier question. He shook his head to dismiss the statement and eyed the chair wearily, before choosing to sit to relieve himself of trying to keep upright on a ship that was somewhat violently rocking.

James swallowed and looked a little desperately at the inviting bottle of rum placed there upon the table, not slipping an inch from where Jack had undoubtedly put it down, it's contents however splashing all over the job like the wild angry seas outside.

"I…" he hesitated, trying to avoid eye contact with the man as he studied the strange trinkets around Sparrow's neck and tied into his hair.

"just wanted to know… if I could be of any more help during the voyage…. Captain?" He laid a delicate stress upon the formal and correct addressing.

"Indefinitely – Don't care, couldn't give a monkies, not bothered…Savvy?" He replied, picking up his drink and taking another deep swig before replacing it on the table, "You'll only tire your little legs out running up and down the decks, which amusing though it may be, it's pointless. I thought you knew how to sail a ship?" He retorted happily, only becoming more gleeful the longer James sat there and fumed; Jack adored winding the poor man up.

"Be of use?" He said, "Not unless you intend on becoming a woman anytime soon." Jack stated, smirking slightly. For sex was the only thing he desired at the moment. True he could have been searching for treasure, and there could have done with being a little more liquor on board; Jack had had to ration what the crew had so that he himself had plenty.

But a woman's touch was the only thing he truly wanted, and at sea this often became a problem.

There were plenty of things James could have done to make himself useful around the place; entertain the crew was one thing, bring him some more rum was another, see where Will had got to…that was a third. Ah James – so infinitely useful in every single way.

Apart from sex…Jack eyed him suspiciously, before adding as an afterthought "Don't think about it – I was joking." Norrington was the kind of guy who would take a comment like that seriously, or at least Jack envisioned he would, and laughed inwardly at the thought of it.

His eyes widened at the latest words of rubbish spewing from Jack's mouth, and his heart beat faster; what in God's name… where the devil… in this situation he was even trying not to swear inwardly. He would have laughed had he not been a more serious man, but…

"I should hope not…" there was a strange glint in James' eyes and he looked Sparrow up and down before clearing his throat. "Though I don't doubt that you make your bedmates feel wanted, Captain…" there was no laughter behind the comment and he merely raised an eyebrow and stood, restraining himself from turning his back on Jack; it would be a rude gesture.

"Sparrow I thought you would have worked out that I'm nobodies _fool_?" he whispered, eyes narrowed and hands clenched into tight fists. He could feel the adrenaline racing around his body… if he didn't leave soon there would be a black eye on either side…

"If you're that desperate you've turned to me, _pirate_…" and he walked out of the room, boots clicking on the floorboards. Norrington headed straight for his rooms, temper high. He ignored the rain, ignored the cat calls and jeers from the other crew mates as he stormed through the quarters and sat on his bed, almost as angry as the seas. Indeed it appeared as though Jack's prediction was correct, and Norrington _had _taken it seriously.

"Why – you jealous Jamsey boy!" Jack called after the man's retreating back, shaking his head and laughing. James would have to be humiliated in the morning; it would take his mind of how badly the chase was going, and teach him another lesson. As it went the ex-commodore still hadn't learnt to look up to him; as soon as he was insulted he seemed to drop all formalities. He should have remembered to call him captain.

But Norrington had gotten to him – Jack was slightly irked at his comment. Still, he hadn't done himself any favours and the Captain continued to have the upper hand in all this. He smiled to reassure himself and closed the door to his cabin, sinking into the bed adorned with cushions and kicking off his boots. Rum made him sleepy, and he had tired of this weather.

---


	2. Sunny Skies and a Light Breeze

Chapter Two

_Sunny Skies and a Light Breeze_

"Gentlemen, good morning – as you can see it is sunny skies and a light breeze that greet us, and a rather sorry sight…" Jack said, the very next morning, pacing up and down the line of men that were gathered, all to see a certain ex-commodore humiliated. "Someone, doesn't know who's in charge around here…" A few sniggers and exchanged glances, looking towards James who stood restrained by two, his back bare.

"Jack!" A lone voice called out, and a young man came pushing forwards, "Jack don't!"

The Captain rolled his eyes and turned around to find himself face to face with none other than his first mate, looking murderous. "Will darling, if it's about last night…"

"He doesn't deserve that – you're just using him as a scape goat." Will muttered in low tones. Jack pushed him aside and turned back to the crew, "Let this be a lesson to all you scurvy dogs, should you ever have the fancy to cross your Captain. I certainly don't intend on spending another month of my life marooned on an island...Mr Gibbs, if you will?"

It was obvious that some of the crew wanted to do this deed, but out of the whole crew, Mr. Gibbs was one of the few who didn't want to see the man pained, however much he was an arrogant fool, even if he did entertain them in their jokes. And to make matters worse, he was holding the long leather whip, eyes squinted against the fate that awaited him if he didn't obey Jack… but if the Cap'n was feeling like this… - perhaps it was time for another docking, to stock up on their beloved alcohol, perhaps in Tortuga, and they could return the ex-Commodore to where they found him in that lowlife Pirate dump. It was to be honest, a dump.

He raised his arm, the whip falling behind his back, and he hesitated a second before striking, watching the smooth back arch backwards as there appeared a thin gash, and five seconds later Gibbs struck again, the blood creeping slowly from the fresh wounds down the un-torn skin, blood running into blood, mingling and stinging and Norrington braced himself for the next stroke, hating the fact that Gibbs was good at this, and knew that to make it fully hurt there must be a pause to allow full extent of pain. It was almost like a schoolmaster with the cane, abusing a boy with the harsh stick for his dark sins.

Gibbs held up six slightly chubby, grimy fingers, showing them to Jack, and waiting for his approval. When it came in the form of a curt nod, he brought the instrument against the flesh a further three times, before waiting and giving the final blow, dropping the weapon after he had finished immediately, covering his ears and walking behind a couple of crew members, resting his forehead against one of the masts, blocking out the cry of agony that James elicited, and covering his eyes from looking at the strips of flesh hanging from his bleeding back, not being able to contain the aggrieved whimper any longer.

The crew dismissed themselves; the two holding Norrington still dropped their iron grips on his upper arms, and he fell to the floor, not daring to look at anyone besides Jack, let alone he was shaking and could not have gazed at Jack had he lusted after the man like a rampant bull.

Will came to the man's side, helping him up and taking him down to his quarters, also avoiding looking at Jack for fear he might cast him a dark look, and suffer the same hurt as Norrington had. He left the bowl of water and the cloth and salve by James' bed, and left the room while the man lay there, staring at the ceiling.

Was he truly that conceited his life had been doomed to eventual deep scars on his back, and agonizing memories sharp and depressing forever burned into his mind until his last breath?

Perhaps that would have taught him a lesson in humility, perhaps not. Jack turned away, uninterested as he took up the wheel once more, flicking open his compass. "Steady as she goes lads; raise the sails and lets be off - east; no wait northeast!" He called, watching his men get to work and carry out his orders. What had happened to James however, niggled in the back of his mind, not exactly the best idea he had come up with as a Captain, but to be honest he was growing bored of the man on his ship, and if Jack didn't like anyone, he didn't like Norrington. Well, he liked him so much as he was good to make fun of, and get ahead of, but that was as far as his liking went. But the expression on the man's face had taken all the fun out of beating him, and now Jack's mood was no better than last night. There was no sign of the other ship on the horizon either, and by his reckonings, they weren't more than three days away from Port Royale.

---

Author's Notes: Well I'm sorry it's a little shorter than the first chapter, but let me guess, you did want to see Norry being whipped, surely! X) heheh sadism… Please if you have a comment drop me a review any questions send me an email (:


	3. Aftermath

Chapter Three

_Aftermath_

Will sighed and silently bathed James' wounds, bitterly angry at Jack for what he had ordered to be done. This time, he had taken things too far. Jack was a good captain, and he had never seen him act in such a cruel and heartless way; it was no better than Barbossa.

Slowly, the blood was cleaned and staunched, and left to the open air to dry. Will handed the man his clothes and stood, about to make his way out of the lower deck. He paused, looking over his shoulder,

"If it's anything - I didn't agree with what Jack did to you today." He muttered, "You should get back on deck though; before he finds reason to do something else." before he left.

James cast a dark look after Will as he went, shaking his head and sighing darkly. _Well it's still all about Jack isn't it… yes, what Jack did, yes, what Jack might do if I don't get back to work. Young Turner should try working himself when he's practically had a knife drawn down his spine…_ Norrington growled with a slight frown and stood, slinging a loose shirt on over his shoulders to keep from sunburn, but left it open due to the heat, and exited the cabin, running a hand through his lank hair as he went, squinting in the sudden sunlight as he emerged upon deck.

He spotted the Captain up at the helm, and quickly focused on something other than the commanding figure stood at the wheel, barking orders now and then. James walked with a slight pained look about the way he moved, making his way over to Gibbs for orders, avoiding the gazes and ignoring the cruel smiles of those individuals that bothered to look through the thin shirt at the remnants of the gashes.

"Well you can start by cleanin' over there if ya like… then if ya can manage?" Gibbs raised an eyebrow a little, "Haul the back middle sail back up – we ain't needin' it. Call fer help if yer be needin' it okay lad?" he was about to clap him on the back before remembering, and instead smiled and patted his shoulder before steering him towards the other end of the deck, where a couple of crew members were already half-heartedly scrubbing the shiny greasy floor. With a disgusted expression he knelt down and had a bucket of water skidded across to him, half of the water slopping onto his clothes, and a cloth missed his face and he caught it deftly, giving them a sickly smile and concentrating on the task in hand, oblivious to anything that might have been called out to him or shouted in abuse – it was really his only other escape, apart from his mind, but of course memories dwelled there. Memories.

Norrington cast a quick glance up towards the helm, and his eyes darkened. Sparrow. Tonight the Captain wouldn't sleep very well.

Jack glanced at the man as he emerged, quickly crossing the deck and getting to work, keeping his head down and avoiding looking up at him. He did however, notice one or two smoldering glances, but he passed them off as mere annoyance from the punishment. That's all it was, and Jack found himself concentrating on steering and not fretting over Norrington. More difficult to ignore was when Will came to stand by his side, glaring at him. After ten minutes Jack turned to the side and stared at him back.

"If this is about..."

"Yes. It is." He snapped, a disgusted look on his face, "That was wrong and you know it."

"Not my problem lad - he should remember to call me Captain as well as learn a little respect."

Will felt like punching the man in the face, but he refrained from doing so. It wouldn't achieve anything in the long run, and though he had made his point about how he felt, Will quickly left the bridge and went to help Ragetti secure the mizzenmast.

Jack watched him go and tried to shift the guilt; it wasn't helping him now his compass was swerving every now and again - his concentration having wavered. He didn't like to admit he was a good man, or that he had gone too far. His pride was a large part of him. Losing it was not something he was about to consider.

X x X x X

Later on, when Gibbs had relieved Jack of his duty and taken up night watch, the Captain brooded in his quarters. Compass forgotten, as was their mission, he couldn't get the man off his mind. The image that he had made himself watch, James' back arching back in agony as time and time again, he was whipped...the defeated way in which he had slumped forward onto the deck afterwards. It was horrible. They had agreed on six lashes before hand, but it had seemed like many more.

He shivered and pulled his coat about him, expression grim - perhaps he'd better catch some sleep. Another day had passed without them catching up to the ship, and Jack feared that perhaps they had already docked - a wiser strategy would be to just catch the wind and make a line for the port, in the hopes of meeting them there. Perhaps they would still beat them...it was a vain hope.

He didn't realize the moment when he fell asleep, though, an empty bottle slid from his limp arm and rolled across the cabin, clattering against the half open door.

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Author's Notes: So this was the after events of how people felt about what happened to James… like it? Tell me so! I like to hear from my readers, to see what they want, to see what they like, and to generally get a feel of how they're seeing the fiction, and what they think could be done to improve this. Remember – us authors write to entertain! Your fanservicing fictions right here ;3


	4. Service

Chapter Four

_Service_

James didn't sleep at all as he had planned and said he would that night, namely to Will, who if there were two people upon the whole ship who cared only a little about him, Will was one, along with Gibbs – a good man. Shame he had chosen to walk the path of piracy. With a shrug, he collected a rope and his sword, departing from the quarters and heading to the Captain's cabin.

He slid through the gap in the open door, noticing the dull glint of the clear moonlight on the edge of the murky bottle of rum by the door before he could kick it and… awake the Captain; by the soft snores Norrington guessed Sparrow was sleeping. It didn't take much to wake the man by placing the quite blunt sword at his neck, the blade nicking the skin as James secured Sparrow's hands behind his back, twisting the arms painfully and shoving him out of the seat and up against the wall, his mouth near Jack's ear, whispering dark vengeful words, digging his elbow into Sparrow's back and pinning him against the paneled wall.

"I know you're not the sort of man to dismiss guilt and regret, Captain," There was no sarcasm behind the name formality this time, "so perhaps I can rid you of that terrible feeling?" His hand crept up Jack's thigh to rest upon his hip. "What do you think would end this undying guilt?"

He took a couple of steps backwards, sheathing his sword and kicking Jack's across the floor to the other side of the cabin, and picking up the gun from the table.

"How can I be of service, Captain?"

It had taken him a few seconds to realise what had happened, all of a sudden he was being attacked, and naturally there had been a struggle; but James was a stronger man than he, and Jack was thick headed from the rum. As such, it didn't take much to have him up against the wall, ribs crushed against the wood panelling, his head twisted painfully to one side as he listened to the ex-Commodore,

"You'd be wrong in thinking that." He replied, adding for confirmation "Guilt is something royal navy men have. And I'm not one of those." Though this time, it was easy to tell he was lying, lying to get that gun away from where it pointed sharply between his shoulder blades. "I could have you keel hauled for this dog..." Though James' hand on his thigh stilled his tongue as it blabbered nonsense, the man's usual tactic for getting out of trouble; confuse them and slip away without notice. This time unfortunately, he had Norrington's undivided attention, and it was slightly unnerving. "I'm not Greek, love..."

There was a barking laugh, and Norrington snorted. "You think… you think?" there was a certain manical glint in his darkened eyes and he walked closer towards Sparrow, kicking his ankle which caused the other man to fall to the floor, and James knelt, pressing the gun barrel close and hard into the sensitive neck.

"Since when did I imply that Captain?" he asked, facial expression confused but amused, a somewhat mocking smile upon his lips. A heavy punch was delivered to the stomach region, and whilst Sparrow was rolling in agony on the floorboards, Norrington abandoned the gun and slid it away across the floor, seizing Jack by the front of his white shirt and drawing their faces closer together, breathing loudly. "Captain I never remembered you as such a blatant liar and an obvious coward. I'm not stupid, and I want to know one thing. What despicable grudge can you have against the likes of me to inflict such agony onto me?" his eyes were desperately searching Jack's face.

A man he slightly admired. Not so much any more.

"That's funny." He spat, wincing from the pain in his stomach, "Most people remember me as nothing but a coward and a blatant liar…" he dared to flash the bitterly angry man a smile, his gold teeth glinting in the half light, "James love, calm down." A hand reached up to try and release the grip on him, though Norrington was on his feet, and Jack was on his knees. It was clear who had the upper hand here. Furthermore the man didn't appear to want to let go, so Jack desisted "I'm a pirate – I don't need a reason."

At that moment, Jack rolled backwards, the tight grip James had on him causing the other to topple over. That was the opportune moment Jack had been waiting for to free himself, and picking up the gun, he pointed it at James. "I don't doubt you've learnt your lesson – we're even James, don't make me shoot you." The gun was more a threat than anything else, the man probably knew that the Captain wouldn't shoot him; though they were enemies, Jack wouldn't ever shoot anyone that wasn't going to kill him. He had never murdered. That was one thing he could not be charged with.

"I might also remind you that we're supposed to be searching for Elizabeth; not making nuisances of ourselves by attacking and trying to better the Captain…really James, it's quite pathetic." He was feeling a little more at ease now he had a weapon in his hand, "Lets just call it even – savvy?"

He looked up through the dark locks falling across his face and gave a mordant smile up at Sparrow. "You still didn't answer my questions, Captain…" He unsteadily got to his feet, leaning on the wall for support against the rocking of the boat.

James brushed back the strands of hair, shaking his head absentmindedly. "You and all your talk. But you're not so pretty without your gun in your hand and when your crew isn't nicely subdued to their duties, hmm? Captain I would have expected you to want to make me believe that you aren't a coward, aren't a liar… but I haven't proof you do, and you aren't what I think you are, so, with reason that I'm _just part of the Navy_ –" Norrington smiled again, walking over to the other man. There was probably a better, more _logic,_ reason that Jack felt James always looked down his nose at him – James was at least three inches taller.

He leaned closer, taking Jack into an embrace of sorts (perhaps serving under a pirate and losing his recent promoted status had finally gone to his head), and whispered close to Sparrow's ear.

"I thought you didn't care about Elizabeth…"

He didn't expect Norrington to understand. He was paranoid of losing the Pearl again, scared of the thought he'd have to endure another mutiny. James could have been the man that started it all again; it had taken him almost eleven years to get this ship back, and he was clinging onto it with everything he had. If it was his previous attitude that lost him his vessel, then he was going to have to take on a slightly different one to keep it this time around.

"Why would I want to disprove something that for once, you've got absolutely right?" He pointed out with a small smirk. "You're not making one but of sense; not at all. Pirates are allowed to do what they want; Government officials have rules to stick to…So if you're still calling yourself a man of the mark, which you're not, technically, you shouldn't have done that. And you're not a pirate either, not by standards, and not by your own. So you can't take the code as your reasoning…" He waved a hand, not even going to attempt to explain to the man his twisted logic. "I am a liar, a coward, and any other insult you wish to place along with my name – I'm a pirate, it goes without saying I'm bad news."

Though suddenly in such close proximity again made Jack begin to wonder if James was becoming as 'mad' as he. Life hadn't been exactly kind to the ex-commodore. "Love, if I didn't care about darling Elizabeth; the whelp would go mad. Why do you think," He paused, pushing James away to give himself a little breathing room, "We've been chasing that ruddy ship all this time? – Kicks and giggles!" Mad laughter rang out through the room, "I would have thought, Jamsey boy, that it might have gotten through that thick skull of yours, I don't particularly _like _going to Port Royale – but for the her sake, I would."

Not in a romantic manner of course; Jack was doing it as a favour to Will, and because Elizabeth had saved him. The three of them were friends, good friends – and Jack had always loved a challenge.

Gaze was dropped to the floor and he turned slightly away, feeling foolish and once again underneath Jack's thumb as a mere extra member of his crew. But there was one more move to be played by the ex-Commodore.

He raised his head. "I have heard them talking, Captain… they say…" there was a lump in his throat – there couldn't have been a reason he didn't want to leave the ship anyway, surely… - "That you want me off… you are truly going to take me back where you found me then?" Those eyes did not light up, instead they shimmered with a disappointment and he walked away, going towards the door, resting a hand on it.

"I thought you didn't let your men down, Captain… and if that's anything as a compliment and if it's anything to be believed then, if you will get rid of me, drop me in Port Royal. There's some generosity in there – even if it's just for oneself everyone has that," he left the room shortly, and Gibbs crossed him over on their separate ways, one leaving the Captain's cabin, and one arriving.

"Ahrr, Cap'n, I just be wonderin' when we be dockin'?"

"Twelve hours Mr.Gibbs – if we get a good wind behind us, keep sailing as the Sparrow flies, keep a weather eye on the horizon, drink all the rum to stop it weighing us down…we should get to Port Royal before the others do." He replied, quite cheery now James had stopped attacking him and otherwise mooching about. Gibbs looked satisfied by that answer and smiled a little

"So we can crack into some more rum then?"

"Aye, it's going spare and I don't doubt we can pick ourselves up a few supplies before we leave with fair Elizabeth – how's the whelp?"

Gibbs clapped his hands together gleefully, but nodded, "He'll be fine once I tell him the good news." Jack smiled, but turned his back as the man left. One thing was concerning him, the look in the ex-commodore's eyes as he left. There was something there he couldn't quite place, and until he knew, he wouldn't be able to rest. He had passed the man off as just being a silly, overreacting maniac, but now he had left, Jack knew there was something that wasn't right. He shivered and continued plotting their course. It wouldn't be long now, not long until they could ditch the man and sail back into more profitable waters.

---

Author's Notes: Hmm. I wonder if I gave too much information? We're coming up to the climax x) YAY! –hyper mood-


	5. Lord Beckett

Chapter Five

_Lord Beckett_

The next morning, Jack was once again at the wheel when they sighted the white washed buildings of their destination. Most of the crew began celebrating, and made to dock around the other side of the island, a few of them planning to row into the port in a small fishing boat, pretending to be simple folk merely docking with their catch. The net full of tuna posed as the believable part to the plan, and Jack himself had volunteered to be one of three in the team to rescue Elizabeth, along with Will, and James. Had the latter not asked to be left here?

Rowing out into the blue waters, Will kept silent, as did Jack. All three were wearing 'disguise' looking rather Hispanic and foreign. Well, James didn't – but there was always the odd one out in a three wasn't there?

Pulling up to the jetty, they pretended to babble to each other in some strange tongue while Jack managed to fob the fees man into not paying – he soon got bored trying to prise some English out of the trio before they sauntered up to the market with their catch, keeping a sharp eye out for any larger ships docking in port, and a handful of guards gathering round. Jack new that this was the most likely thing to happen, and so they absentmindedly sold their catch and hung around. Waiting. Where was Norrington?

X x X x X

"I got here as soon as I could…" A nod to acknowledge his words.

"And a very fine attempt it was, Norrington. You've done me a great service, yes?" Norrington avoided Beckett's eyes. Yes, Beckett.

"I await further orders, sir?" A pause, and Beckett stood from being seated at the desk, strewn with a large map, an empty bottle of weak cider, a compass and some business documents. "Go back and tell them you know where she," he indicated his head to a door on the other side of the room, no doubt leading to the holding cells for slaves and other captives that the trading company had picked up.

"is being held, lure them here, and…" Norrington looked up as Beckett hesitated, and could see the man's scrutinizing eyes scanning his form.

"Go and make yourself a little more respectable, James?" A curt nod followed Beckett's complaint and Norrington left the small room.

X x X x X

"Captain?" James ran down the walkway, pausing for a second to catch his breath once more.

Gibbs raised a questioning eyebrow, and Will wasn't looking too sure himself of James' sudden arrival.

"I know where she is," he nodded with a small smile as Turner's eyes lit up; obviously the dark path had been brightened for him. "Follow," it was as if he was ordering a small dog.

They approached the large building quickly, and Norrington squinted up at it, raising a hand to shield his eyes against the white sunlight filtering down through the scarce clouds. He turned with a grave expression on his face, and dropped his eyes to the bleached dock.

"Excellent," Jack noted as they approached the Jail cells, dark eyes looking around for any sign that they were being followed, or that there were guards posted around the entrance. There was of course, but Will, knowing the port well enough, led them around a side alley and into another building. This way was how he had gotten in before, and dropping down a small trapdoor opening, Will led them along a dark, underground passage that opened right up into the main corridor. They had to be careful to avoid the guards on duty, but in to time they had followed James down to a row of holding cells, and a waiting Elizabeth.

As soon as they saw her, Will rushed forward, clasping her hands in blissful reunion. Jack however, caught her dismayed expression a little too late; for seconds later they had guns at their heads, arms twisted painfully behind backs. He looked across at Norrington, to find him averting his eyes and looking rather guilty. It was evidence enough let him know he had been a part of this all along.

"I'm guessing it's a Royal Navy thing?" He enquired with a small smile. As the barrel of the gun pressed closer into his back, Jack nodded, as he already knew the answer, adding, "Thought as much." In quite undertones as Beckett stepped forward.

"Escort Turner and Miss Swann to my office; I have a few terms they need to agree to regarding this."

"And what of Sparrow sir?"

"Captain, _Captain_ Sparrow." Jack hissed quietly, before coming face to face with Beckett and falling silent. The man smiled.

"_Captain_ Sparrow can be detained in the high security prison before his execution at Dawn."

_Execution? No… no that wasn't ever part of the agreement… _Norrington looked as though he was about to interrupt and suggest otherwise – perhaps make Sparrow serve a couple of years in prison… servitude… for the Navy? There was a chance he would die there anyway? God… he hadn't meant for deaths. Just… it didn't matter. It was Sparrow; one of two men who had ruined his life, and furthermore he was getting _paid_ for what he had just done - money, to improve his life.

He turned and walked down the corridor, ascending the stairs with the guards behind him, and a struggling Jack being escorted the opposite way. James resisted the temptation to turn and giving a pleading look of forgiveness, but with soldiers driving him onwards and watching for his loyalties to Beckett, there wasn't a chance he would be able to without some punishment.

To be honest, friends improved life more than riches, didn't they? Hah – and no one upon the _Pearl _had particularly favoured him. True there had been some who were kind enough, but surely it was sympathy. As bittersweet as the pity that Elizabeth gave him. Norrington was certain that all empathy from her now had been doused.

X x X x X

"Norrington I'm pleased with what you've achieved…" A broad smile graced Beckett's wide face. James stood by the window, watching the gulls soar freely above the whitewashed buildings, black tipped wings skimming the frothing waves, lapping gently against the sides of the fishing boats. The further he looked, the more the ocean did indeed seem like freedom. And there was the _Pearl_, moored safely, flanked, camouflaged by the shadowing outcrop of the nearby cliff, behind a large sea rock bedecked in seaweed and barnacles.

"James, are you listening?" The guard at the door rapped the man on the shoulder with his sheathed sword. The ex-Commodore moved to the left a little to indicate he was listening. Slightly.

"I recognize your efforts and schemes… and there is one final thing," James closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

"Sir… I have other matters to –"

"Be silent!" A snappish remark at James' calm words. "You will do as I say – I have you hired for another seven years!" His face had become irritable, red and swollen looking, eyes like a hawk's, and monitoring Norrington's every move.

"Guards, take him to see Sparrow. If there is any information I need for other treasures, I'm sure Norrington here will be as so clever and cunning to find out where they are?" Beckett cocked his head to the side and the soldiers took James away.

---

Author's Notes: Oh dear. Jamesyboi is in a spot of bother with his Captain. Who will he choose, **Lord or Captain**? Find out by the end of the fic:D This whole thing is about 20 pages long at the moment xD but you haven't seen some of what I've uploaded yet, so, continue reading (: That is, if you're enjoying yourselves? -worried look-


	6. A Compass and a Tournament

Chapter Six

_A Compass and a Tournament_

The underground room was dark, and the single light that hung from the wall did not do much to penetrate the shadows, only made them dance as the fire in from the candle flickered with the cold, and the sea wind.

"Here's the key when you need to come back up," The guard growled, pressing it into his hand and walking away.

Silence.

It had probably only been half an hour or so since he had been thrown in here, his hands clapped in irons. Jack hadn't been dispirited. It had all come about so quickly, he didn't feel it was really happening to him, and as such, was already planning on ways to escape. Jack didn't fancy attending his execution; a hanging for him was not going to be pretty. He wasn't a heavy man, and so would take a long time to die. So the executioner was going to be disappointed when he didn't have the Pirate dangling on the end of his rope.

First off was trying to free himself from the shackles, but the guards had gotten wise and used smaller ones, especially for him. They knew the man could make his hands small enough to slip through, and this time, they were a snug fit, stopping any activities of the like. So he had just sat in the dark, trying to figure out his next course of action; for he knew he didn't have long. Beckett seemed so eager to dispatch him; the Captain was certain when he had said execution at dawn, he had meant it.

Only the approaching sound of footsteps and a surly guard made Sparrow look up, to his surprise it was Norrington standing there. He smiled weakly, though it did reach his eyes. Pushing himself up onto his feet, the pirate walked over to the cell door so that he could see eye to eye with his adversary.

"Come to get me out of this mess love?" He assumed, quick eyes darting to where the man held the key, "I didn't mean all that I said to you before…you got your life back, you're getting paid – you'll be commodore in no time I'll wager. Doing well for yourself aren't you Jamsey boy? I always knew you had it in you – well done!" Realising his compliments weren't getting him anywhere; he looked a little more pointedly at the key James held. "You know you want to let me go…"

James sighed, and nodded his head. "Captain Jack Sparrow. How many times have I put you behind bars?" he muttered nonchalantly, fingering the heavy iron key fondly in his smooth hands, closing his fingers over it and looking up at Sparrow, jaw set and a determined look upon his face. He swallowed, then looked away, gazing at the dark stone of the cobbled floor.

"Jack I…" First name terms. He fell against the bars, hands clutching the rusted poles, the metal cool against his forehead, dark hair falling out of place and over his eyes, steadying his breathing James closed his eyes.

"I assure you Captain Sparrow, it wasn't part of the deal…" James looked up and stood a little straighter.

He nodded, eyes shimmering. "I know I want to let you go? Hypnotism – I assume you learnt that off one of your acquaintances…" A wry smile and he turned to walk back. He tossed something over to Jack, however.

"Your compass. I noticed Lord Beckett had the courage to steal it off your belt of trinkets,"

X x X x X

A fairly grey morning greeted the residents of Port Royal the next day, and indeed many of them still turned up despite the ominous black clouds promising a short and heavy spell of rain.

Norrington was also there, and Beckett's guards had escorted Will and Elizabeth, both in strong shackles, to watch the hanging. James had his eyes down, and a hand covered them. What a fool he was, to believe that Beckett wouldn't harm the man, only take what he needed and _dispose_ of him. With Beckett that obviously didn't mean 'cast out'. It meant kill. Murder. Condemn.

From the church tower, a lone bell tolled. Then began the drums. Will always wondered why they played drums at an execution, perhaps to avoid the horrible silence. For nobody talked at these gatherings, merely watched the gallows with grim faces. Beckett stood there already, the list of charges in his hand as he waited, expectantly, for the pirate he so loathed, to be led out from his confinement. He had been informed that Jack wouldn't ever agree to work for him, and so he would merely be in the way. A hanging was the best answer to this conundrum, and so he had ordered it be so.

Ah but here he came.

Jack, having been unable to catch his compass, had spent half the night trying to get it back, until a guard had picked it up, realised what it was and pocketed it. Sighing, the pirate had slumped against the wall and had practically given up. If Will and Elizabeth could have perhaps alerted the crew…then maybe he would still have a chance.

Now being led out into the full sun, his eyes squinted and looked away from everyone staring at him. He felt the barrel of a musket between his shoulders and continued to walk, hands chained in front of him as he ascended the stairs to the gallows, smiling politely at Beckett, who only sneered and looked away. The next thing he felt was a rope around his neck and realised he was standing on the trapdoor.

"Jack Sparrow, you are charged with condoning in the act of piracy, having twice avoided persecution by the law and engaging in acts including theft, sailing under false colours, impersonating members of the Royal Navy, impersonating a member of the church, trading contraband, being drunk and unruly…"

The charges continued to be read out, all petty crimes for which the punishment would be a flogging and no more. But who was to question the admiral? Will glanced at Elizabeth, who had tears in her eyes. This time perhaps, there would be no reprise for Jack. He didn't look as though he had any cunning plan of escape. He looked so fragile, so…defeated. The awfulness of the situation overwhelmed the young man, yet he did not look away. He hoped to catch Jack's eyes at least, to tell him how much of a friend he had been to Elizabeth and him.

"…and general lawlessness. I hereby sentence you to hang by the neck until dead."

The hand was taken away from his eyes as the drums started up, and he looked at Jack, stumbling as the guards got a little ahead of him in the march. There came a drop of water hit his cheek just below his eye. And then another on his lip - another on his nose. Looking up, James squinted as the rain began to spit, drenching everyone in a fine layer of water, dewdrops forming on lace hems of dresses, hair and wigs. The flag began to billow wildly against the slight wind that caught up.

The flag against the marble arch, where Elizabeth and Will stood, young Turner with a protective arm around his beloved, yet unmarried, beauty, her face streaked with tears and raindrops spattered, balancing on her long eyelashes, face pressed close into Will's shoulder, hiding her eyes from the awful sight.

That's exactly what it was. Awful, terrible… it was the man's _life_…

The ex-Commodore held up a hand, and walked briskly down the steps up to the marble podium where the lovers stood, along with Beckett and his two admirals, guns stood like staffs next to their sides.

"Don't you think the public," he spread an arm to encompass the crowd, "has seen enough hangings of this man, and it seems you have other prisoners besides? Wouldn't you prefer something a little more… _entertaining_, Sir?" Beckett nodded for Norrington to continue his proposal.

"A tournament,"

"Who are the challengers?"

James took a sharp breath. He nodded towards Sparrow, gaze lingering on the man for a moment too long, which earned him a hard jab of Cutler's elbow in his ribs. "And me,"

---

Author's Notes: Who thought Tia Dalma was just awesome x) Oh and please, if you're a very, very, very big fan of Sparrington, and enjoy your slash, please check out Theban Band's artwork. If you type in Theban Band onto a search engine, (google I use) I know that on Google it's the first link (: Have fun on there. Be aware it's not particularly work-safe stuff xD I recommend all you kiddies who have somehow strolled onto my little fic here, DON'T go there. I'm trying to advertise and not be a bad influence at the same time here x) Multitasking; it's a woman thing x3


	7. To the Death

Chapter Seven

_To the Death_

"A tournament you say? To the death? Why allow this pirate the death of an honest man?"

Though Beckett went against his own words a moment later, for something about the look Norrington gave him told him that Jack _was_ an honest man, or at least, people thought him to be. "Very well, we shall have our entertainment." He brought James to one side as the noose was removed from Sparrow's neck, muttering in undertones "Make sure you kill him. It would be a shame to see you in that noose."

"Give him a sword, and clear an area of the courtyard."

"But sir…his shackles?"

The smile on the admiral's face let Cutler know that he wasn't about to make this a particularly fair fight. If James though he was being kind by giving Sparrow a chance then he had been horrible mistaken. Beckett wanted the pirate to die, and if this was going to be in an amusing manner, even better.

"The first man to be unable to strike loses, and shall be either hung or shot." Beckett ordered, Jack now standing and struggling to hold a sword in his bound hands. Whatever madness this was, he hoped it would end soon. There was no hope of escape, as the guard stood with their guns loaded, and the look James had flashed him didn't tell him anything, Jack just stood and hoped the man wasn't too good with a rapier.

He jumped down from the marble ledge, unsheathing his sword with a singing pang of the metal, the steel glinting in the faint light as it caught the sharpened edge. He stepped forwards, coming up close to Sparrow, expression earnest and hiding anything he might have been thinking. The first strike from him cut the chain between Jack's bonds, and Norrington raised his eyebrows at Sparrow, hoping to seem surprised. Beckett had been promised entertainment.

James noticed the crowd's eyes light up at the event, but Cutler was becoming more and more furious as the fight wore on - with each parry, the clanging of the blades as they met, protecting the wielder, with each slash as it whipped through the air, making yet another wound in the space between the duellers.

Another five minutes passed – still no obvious winner, or loser. Both contenders battled it out, but James was losing heart. He had hoped to let Sparrow win, at least, and at Jack's next blow that nearly gashed his shoulder deeply, Norrington pretended to stumble, and lay there on the ground, rapier two metres away having skidded across the stone ground, breathing heavily as the point of Jack's blade was mere centimetres away from his sincere face.

"Jack," he muttered, "Go… as soon as…. they let you. Take Miss Swann… and… Mr Turner…" Dark eyes flickered from the guards beginning to surround them both back to Jack's face.

"What is your deal, Norrington? You said there was something else?"

"Yes – let Miss Swann and Mr Turner go with the good Captain,"

A pause, a silence, broken only by the rough wind and the shuffle of feet from the spectators, one or two strained coughs.

"Very well,"

Jack was out of there as fast as his legs would carry him, down the road to the coast, Will and Elizabeth in his wake. Will was shouting something, but Jack didn't stop to take note of what it was, not until they had reached the small rowing boat. Making to push it out onto the water, the pirate only stopped when he realised he couldn't – Will was in the way.

"Move whelp,"

Will face was earnest. And three times more Jack made to cast off, but to no avail as Elizabeth joined her lover, preventing the Captain from leaving. Jack rolled his eyes as Will spoke up "He saved your life Jack, you owe him."

"Get in the boat Will, you too Miss Swan – you're wasting time, we need…"

"You owe him! Get back up there and save him you coward!" Will cried, not abandoning his grip on the boat for fear that Sparrow would simply jump in and row out to the _Pearl_. "I thought you were a good man!"

"Correction, pirate." He retorted, pulling out a gun from behind his back and loading it "Get in the boat."

"I know you won't shoot me Jack – now come on."

"Get in the boat master Turner. Unless you don't trust me, in which case you can bloody well go back to the _Pearl_…no wait, forget I said that – you can bloody well go back to being a _blacksmith_ and leave me to rescue dear James on my own"

That shifted the two, and moments later all three appeared to be rowing back to the black ship, in actual fact, Jack had another trick up his sleeve. 

---

Author's Notes: What's the tension like?


	8. Ambition

Chapter Eight

_Ambition_

"Leave him with me; don't bother to guard the door either – he isn't going anywhere." Beckett's voice, icy and smooth informed the guards as they turned and left, the admiral turning his attentions to the beaten man, lying in Jack's very cell, in the situation Captain Sparrow had faced only moments before.

"Throwing away your life for the man you hate?" He began, an incredulous expression on his face, "You're starting to make no sense whatsoever, Norrington. I saw you let him win – don't think you fooled me. It begs the question why; do you think that pirate will come back to help you? Do you believe as a good man, this was a noble act? It was foolish." The man said, pacing the length of the cell, every now and again looking at James, stripped of his fine clothes, dirty though they were. Now he just looked like any other criminal. "And here I was thinking you had ambition – what ambition is this?" 

The question went unanswered, but Beckett allowed the silence to spiral horribly, before laughing quietly, "There are disguised guards posted all over the port; if he comes back to try and free you he will be shot. I want him dead; and if he's the man you believe him to be he will die – otherwise he shall be hung drawn and quartered the next time we set eyes on him, if he chooses to run. So your act was futile – do you still wish to pardon yourself? It can be…arranged."

"You're still under my command, though you would be hanged tomorrow morning, what would you be willing to do to save your own life?"

James glared at Cutler through dark, half-lidded eyes, a beaten scowl on his lips and his hands bound. Yes, ambition. What exactly was he doing with his life now? True he was actually _doing _something with his life, but what? To what point and purpose – had his noble act all been in vain? But surely… Jack had more craftiness than that. The pirate Captain knew every trick in the bloody book, although it wasn't written down on _paper_, per se, there were schemes. Norrington had picked up a couple on Turtle Island, but certainly wasn't a master of them.

"Beckett…" he growled, voice dripping with loathing and pure malevolence, and a desire to strangle the man, grip his porky neck into a hold that would choke him to the painful death he deserved for his wrongdoing. He killed pirates, with the sole reason that he hated them. Despised them. Mistreated and tortured them…

"Sir I would do anything but kill a righteous man," was his quiet reply. James buried his face in his hands, just wondering what the in the darkest fiery depths of oh God forsaken hell Lord Beckett could possibly make him do to win back the ownership of his life. _His life_.

X x X x X

Tears stained her cheeks, but more still trickled down them, not fearing for him any longer but shaking her head with anxious sobs at what he had done – forgotten one man's life. One man. A good, one man. James Norrington – he was a respectable friend of hers.

Elizabeth fell onto Will's torso, ignoring his soothing and calming noises, the hand on her hair gently stroking making no difference.

Her indomitable face stared at Jack.

"You _have_ to take us back,"

Jack rolled his eyes, as he rowed them back to the ship "You're both as clever as each other aren't you? Real bright little buttons. I don't _have_ to do anything."

Will fell silent, but glared at the man. Jack was being uncharacteristically cold. He wanted to trust him, wanted to believe that he was going back to save James, he knew his father would have trusted the man to the end, but why would he do anything of the sort? Jack hated the man with a passion – what he had done on the ship was proof enough, then again…that hadn't been /him/ either. Not the Jack he knew. What had happened to him?

Back on the Pearl, Jack gave the orders to cast off, head straight for Tortuga. Ignoring all protests from both Will and Elizabeth, they refused to help, and even tried to abandon ship. The Captain wasn't having any of it and had them put in the hold, locked. Only an hour later, when Gibbs went to ask what was going on, did he find that Jack's quarters were empty, and a note on the table.

"Abandon all those who fall behind, either accidentally or purposely."

X x X x X

Dripping wet from the ocean, Jack Sparrow smiled to himself. He guessed that the city and Gaol would be crawling with men out to kill him, but James wouldn't be held there. If he were right, the ex-Commodore would be escorted to Beckett's temporary quarters, which were in the building just at the top of this cliff. He only had until morning to reach the top, and so knife in mouth, he began to climb.

X x X x X

"Will! Miss Swann!" Gibbs raced down the deck, barging into the cells where the two were being held. "Look at this," he thrust the note through the bars, Will taking it into his rough hands. His eyes scanned the letter and as he raised his head to look back at Gibbs, he looked lost. Elizabeth snatched it from her lover, and Gibbs merely shrugged.

"Can't say I be knowin' where he's got off to this time, young Turner…"

X x X x X

"I was hoping for a little _entertainment_." Beckett said, unlocking the cell and leading James up to his quarters, "impress me and I'll let you live."

James looked Beckett up and down as he stood in front of the door, knowing full well there were guards stationed outside, either side of the oak polished exit.

"Entertainment? I'm not sure I fully understand your meaning, Sir," he cleared his throat, a hand on the handle of his sword. "You could either mean something I'm not particularly entitled to think about, or…" Norrington's sword was taken from him as quickly as it came from its scabbard.

"I'd like to think I want the first, James…" The ex-Commodore took a couple of hesitant steps backwards, but his back slammed against the wall, and Beckett balanced upon his tiptoes to at least have reasonably level eye contact. The other was breathing heavily, nervous and looking from side to side.

"Cutler, I must object…"

"You said anything,"

---

Author's Notes: Sorry this fic isn't up to my usual standards; the punctuation is a little shabby and so is the spelling and grammar. Ah well. Are you enjoying this? I might update this chapter at a later date, but don't expect anything. If you get the next chapter then I won't bother updating this chapter (: It all makes sense… kind.of. –runs away screaming-


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